


One is All, All is One

by A Passing Housewife (flourchildwrites)



Series: Fullmetal Alchemist Tumblr Events [11]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alchemy, F/M, Family Feels, Gen, Training, canonical reference to child loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29014029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flourchildwrites/pseuds/A%20Passing%20Housewife
Summary: Izumi Curtis:  Passing Housewife, Master Alchemist and... Teacher?It's more likely than you think.Written for FMA Secret Santa 2020
Relationships: Izumi Curtis/Sig Curtis
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist Tumblr Events [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1043858
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30
Collections: FMA Secret Santa 2020





	One is All, All is One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saradathesalad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saradathesalad/gifts).



> Happy (belated) holidays, Ratsbys! I'm your pinch-hitter for the 2020 FMA Secret Santa over on tumblr. When I saw that you liked Izumi Curtis, I couldn't help myself. She's my favorite character (hence the pseud). Thank you for waiting so patiently for your gift. I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed creating it for you.

“How can I say no to that? Of course, they may go.”

Izumi is almost taken aback by the ease of Pinako Rockbelk’s answer, but there seems to be a lot of that reasoning going around today. Perhaps, this is just the effect that the Elric brothers have on ordinarily reasonable people. Housewives suddenly agree to become teachers, and trusted guardians allow their wards to live with strangers while studying alchemy.

“My husband and I run a butcher shop in Dublith,” Izumi explains. “If the boys pass a preliminary test, they would live there with us while I teach them. I would also insist they train in martial arts to provide a practical application for their skills. Both aspects of the training are rigorous. Many pupils wait until they are older to learn.”

Pinako smiles congenially. “Dublith sounds like a nice place, and I think you will find both boys are ready to learn what you have to teach, especially if they are allowed to do it together.”

The short, elderly mechanic sits opposite Izumi and puffs happily on her long pipe. She answers each question with ease, and the passing housewife realizes that Pinako’s demeanor is unshakable. She might be doing something as mundane as ordering breakfast at her favorite local restaurant, not handing over custody of two young boys to complete strangers.

The thought almost makes Izumi smirk before she remembers where they are, a small farming town named Resembool that sits precariously close to the troubled Ishvalan territory. In this town, the sheep outnumber the people, and though there might have been charming restaurants dotting the streets surrounding a bustling train station in the past, this progress was wiped away by the 1907 terrorist attack. Resembool, much like their residents, gives the appearance of a pastoral paradise, but beneath the pretty picture, there lies loss and hardship. Honestly, Izumi isn’t surprised that Alphonse and Edward want to travel for alchemy lessons; however, she is wary of the fact that Pinako, their guardian, will so casually allow it.

“Dr. Rockbell,” Izumi entreats, mindful of automail textbooks lining a nearby bookcase that prominently bear the elderly doctor’s honorific on their spine.

“It’s Pinako, dear,” she corrects with gentle (but firm) intonation.

Izumi grins awkwardly in reply and sets down the tea that young Winry served them earlier. It smells divine—ginger tea with a hint of lemon and mint, but she has no stomach for it.

“Pinako, the training I specialize in can be physically and spiritually trying, especially for children. Unfortunately, I can’t make exceptions.”

“Nor would I ask you to,” Pinako is quick to respond. “The boys’ father was an accomplished alchemist, and they’ve been playing around with it ever since they were old enough to read. I would rather them learn under the guidance of a master. Forgive me for being blunt, dear, but I believe the real question is if you think you are ready for students.”

Pinako takes a drag from the end of her pipe and exhales in a steady stream. Izumi is grateful for the warm smoke clouding the sunny sitting room as the old woman peers through the glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. Her question cuts dangerously close to the quick. The Flamel on the left side of Izumi’s chest pulses when she hears the word “master” and thinks of the boys as they are: alchemy students, perhaps, but first and foremost, they are children—something Izumi has too little and too much experience with.

Is she ready? For children under her roof? For students eager to learn a skill that left her marred?

The grandfather clock on the sitting room wall counts three seconds before Izumi is pulled out of the mire of her mind by the comforting pressure of Sig’s hand on her knee, and when he speaks, it is with a gruff softness that makes her heart swell.

“We would have no trouble looking after the boys, though I think my wife wouldn’t want to deprive the boys’ father the opportunity to train them.”

At the mention of the absent man, Pinako tilts her chin downward; shadows deepen her wrinkles. “I’m told he has his reasons. Still, Edward and Alphone’s father deprives himself of the opportunity to train his sons well enough on his own without anyone else helping him. You would not be intruding.”

Her short arm leans toward the coffee table separating the couple, and she places her pipe in a metal ashtray before bringing her hands to rest in her lap.

“I never was an overbearing parent,” she states, “and I am also not as young as I once was. Some days, these old bones feel too tired to look after three children. Winry’s interest in automail is something I can manage, but alchemy is beyond my field of expertise. Edward and Alphonse would greatly benefit from some vigorous direction to channel their passion, and I sense in Izumi a tireless spirit.”

Sig beams down at his wife in agreement.

“If dear Trisha, their mother, were here, I believe she would agree. They are determined to learn alchemy, and they have the gift to perform it. But they can’t do that properly in Resembool, so I will allow the boys to train with you if you are agreeable.”

Izumi isn’t sure what persuades her, be it a reason or a feeling, but her resolve requires nothing more than her husband’s agreement. Likewise, when she looks to Sig and finds his burly face full of admiration, she knows they are of the same mind. The boys will return to Dublith with them, and if they pass the test, Izumi will teach them the art of alchemy.

“I will consider them as students,” Izumi announces, “provided they have the perseverance to learn alchemy. They may not be ready, but there’s only one way to be certain. I will test them as I was tested. We’ll see where they stand after a month.”

To the couple’s surprise, Pinako chuckles at the prospect of Edward and Alphonse not being ready as if she knows something Izumi and Sig do not. With business concluded, the three adults rise from their seats and prepare themselves for the short walk to the nearby Elric family home to tell Edward and Alphonse the good news.

* * *

One is all; all is one.

This is the basis of alchemy. It is a lesson that the boys must learn, divined in isolation through the cycle of life itself. And until her new apprentices speak this law into being, Izumi cannot teach them. They must figure it out by themselves.

She takes Pinako’s words to heart and does not shy away from the vigorous direction the good Dr. Rockbell prescribed. Edward and Alphonse will be instructed in the same manner Izumi was taught. They land upon a nearby island with soft sand, warm water and lush greenery that teems with life. The passing housewife breathes in the humid air and pushes the last of the city smog from her lungs. She doesn’t think about the ache in her belly during moments like these. It is all part of the same alchemical cycle. Each end engenders a new beginning.

And honestly, this new beginning on a beautiful island is a far cry from her first alchemy trial at frigid Briggs. Izumi’s methods may be bold, but she is hardly cruel. Edward and Alphonse are, after all, still children. Children stranded on a deserted island, but children nonetheless.

“You two are on your own,” she announces to a slightly bewildered Edward and Alphonse.

The boys stare back in surprise, and Izumi grins with confidence. She places her hands squarely on her hips, and her voice swells with conviction. It’s been quite a while since she felt this sort of rush. To be needed and valued. And to be seen as both a housewife and a master alchemist.

It’s nice, very nice. But that won’t soften Izumi’s resolve as a teacher. She owes her students this much.

“If you do well, you will move on to the main training phase. During this first stage, the use of alchemy is totally forbidden.”

But one little clue is in order, she thinks. That is only fair.

“One is all, and all is one. You have one month to figure out what that means. You better find the answer in the allotted time, or else you are headed back to Resembool.”

To underscore her point, Izumi tosses a knife at the boy’s feet. It’s another gift, though they may not see it that way until later. To be talented alchemists, they must understand the value of sacrifice. They discard their daily comforts for the benefit of knowledge, and to sustain their lives, they must know what has been taken firsthand. A knife is, simply put, essential to that task.

With one arm raised and a grin on her face, Izumi bids her pupils a fond farewell, almost wishing she could travel back through the threads of time to complete her own training again. “Bye,” she says confidently before the boys can respond.

As Sig paddles back toward the shore, he hums thoughtfully under his breath.

“A clue and a knife,” he observes.

“Too much?” Izumi asks. The bridge of her nose wrinkles playfully with indecision.

Sig chuckles. “I think it’s just enough.”

* * *

Four days.

It’s been four days since she ~~marooned~~ ~~abandoned~~ purposefully left Edward and Alphonse on a nearby island in the name of introductory alchemy training (with a knife!). Outwardly, Izumi is the picture of levelheaded confidence. She says loud and proud that her pupils will have an abundant supply of food and water when her husband questions her methods.

But inwardly, she’s forever grateful that Sig chose to check in on them this morning.

He set off with a small knapsack after closing the butcher shop early. And when she told him to “do what he felt he had to” with a stiff upper lip, Sig smiled so softly in return as if he knew what she really meant was, 'thank you.'

Now that she is alone, nervousness twists her belly into knots. With her work in the butcher shop done for the day, the housewife wanders from room to room in her home, wondering how the boys might spend their days and taking note of her furniture’s construction. No doubt, a few pieces are bound to be destroyed during their training. Rigorous martial arts training requires an ambush or two. Broken furniture is a fair trade for solid combat skills.

Yet, Izumi finds herself drawn to the details in each room: family photos filled by two and fragile mementos from her travels around Amestris. When she reaches the spare room at the end of the hall, she notices that the doorknob looks just like new, and indeed, this room is not a place she likes to dwell. Though it is now filled with odds and ends that have no place in her home, it was once a nursery.

Soon, if Edward and Alphonse pass their test, it will be a student dormitory of sorts.

Izumi doesn’t know how to feel about this change. Nevertheless, she chooses to focus on the new beginning laid at her feet rather than the dream of motherhood that slipped between her fingers.

It takes her hours to transmute the old furniture into a set of twin beds with a matching nightstand placed in between. She dusts and busies herself into the evening, finding new places for old keepsakes and cleaning off an old desk at the far side of the room. By the time Sig returns, Izumi has made a list of supplies the boys will need and has scoured the house for suitable fabric for new curtains.

It is only when she sees Sig’s dirt clad knees and windswept hair that Izumi realizes she might have acted too soon.

“How are they?” she asks, trying to summon her earlier confidence.

Sig smiles reassuringly, and her heart beats faster in relief.

“They’re doing ok,” he says. “I was close to calling off the exercise, but Edward decided to eat some ants. Strange choice, but shortly after, they were setting traps for rabbits and making fishing poles. I think they’re starting to understand your lesson.”

Amusement painted Izumi’s features. “Of all the things to eat on that island, he ate _ants_?”

“Everyone has to start somewhere,” Sig responds gently. “Maybe we should set aside some time to take the boys camping during their training. Survival tactics are essential.”

A picturesque image burns itself into the housewife's mind before she can curb her enthusiasm—Izumi and Sig with Edward and Alphonse, camping under the stars. She would like to teach them how to transmute shelter while Sig cooks a delicious meal over a modest campfire. Indeed, there’s an element of training in that activity, but there’s also a feeling of blissful domesticity that Izumi doesn’t want to put a name to. At least, not yet.

“I’ll consider putting survival training in my curriculum,” Izumi announces as she turns on her heel and heads back down the hallway. “Now, I need to show you where the boys will be staying. I’m torn between two fabrics for the curtains, and we’ll need to go shopping for a few more things before they return.”

She doesn’t turn to see Sig’s expression, but somehow, Izumi knows he is also smiling.

* * *

There’s an impressive spread laid out on the table when the Elric brothers return from the island. It’s a feast for the senses, and the boys do not hesitate to tuck in. They load their plates with thick cuts of beef, potatoes and a few spoonfuls of veggies. Each dish is topped with a river of gravy and a crusty slice of buttered bread.

Izumi can’t remember the last time her kitchen felt so full, and she grins to herself when she thinks no one is watching. Edward and Alphonse adapt to their new surroundings quickly. The boys eat exuberantly as they tell Sig about their time on the island. The burly bear of a man listens intently to Edward’s exaggerated account of their time as if he hadn’t secretly checked in on the boys every few days. As she finishes serving her own plate and sits down to dinner, Izumi mentally confirms her plans to take her students camping sometime.

For survival training purposes, of course.

“You should have seen us, teacher!” Ed exclaims. “We made traps and fishing poles without alchemy.”

Izumi checks her enthusiasm despite the way her heart jumps at the name they’ve given her: teacher.

“You did well, boys, but the real work begins tomorrow. You’ll need to study and practice to learn alchemy.”

Alphonse perks up. “Oh, we will, teacher. We’ll be the best students you’ve ever had.”

She begins to say that they’re the only students she’s ever taken on, but something about the way their golden eyes gleam with passion and pride causes Izumi to pause. Her introduction to alchemy was nothing like theirs. Her reception was cold; her preliminary test was colder. And she cannot recall such a fine meal shared with her master.

“Honey,” Sig interrupts. His timing is impeccable as always. “Why don’t you tell them about your test and how you had to fight a bear.”

Izumi can’t help the confident smirk that settles on her mouth. As Edward and Alphonse hang on her every word, she recounts her experiences in Briggs with as much fearsome detail as she can remember. The children lean in to listen while they continue to shove heaping spoonfuls of mashed potatoes in their mouths. By the time their plates are cleared, Izumi feels as if she is a living, breathing legend, an all-powerful alchemist that has much to teach her students.

It occurs to Izumi, sometime between dinner and dessert, that Edward and Alphonse need more than an alchemy education. These orphans from Resembool need guidance in all things. They need care and concern from people not spread so thin as Pinako. The phrase ‘role models’ burrows its way into Izumi’s mind, and as she watches Sig help the boys set dessert plates around their small table, she begins to understand what Pinako might have seen in the passing husband and wife from Dublith.

It’s too soon to say they are a family and too much to call the warm, tight feeling in her chest ‘love.’ But there is something wonderful about the easy way the Elrics belong in this home, like puzzle pieces tailor-made for empty spaces that Izumi once believed could never be filled.

After dinner, Edward and Alphonse wash up and tuck themselves in bed. Their tired bodies sprawl out over the new sheets. They sleep soundly on a pair of soft mattresses that cushion their ambitious dreams. Sig busies himself cleaning up the kitchen while Izumi settles at her desk in the study. She selects a recipe for breakfast alongside her lesson plans for the boys’ first formal alchemy instruction when an idea strikes her.

Izumi isn’t entirely sure why she feels compelled to write Pinako a letter, but the delicate fibers of her favorite stationery are pressed underneath her pen before she can second guess herself. She shares the good news about the brothers passing their preliminary exam with Pinako and thanks the doctor for the opportunity to nurture their talent. In the last paragraph, the housewife makes a small request for recipes that the boys favor to make their stay more comfortable. 

Lastly, Izumi’s pen hovers over the signature line for a moment, wondering which phrase to use in closing. She goes with her instinct and writes the first thing that comes to mind.

‘ _One Is All, All Is One_ ,’ she pens in the space above her signature block.

Perhaps, the perceptive Granny will know the phrase’s meaning, or maybe she’ll consider the odd saying little more than a mantra Izumi favors. Both are true. Still, the concept of a beginning within an end, of equivalent exchange and interconnectivity of all things, seems particularly poignant tonight.

Izumi sits back in her desk chair and sighs softly to herself. She knew that the next few months would be life-changing for the two boys occupying the room at the far end of the hall. Until this moment, she had not expected how impactful their presence would be for her in return.


End file.
